


The Princess of Dorne

by loley24



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-23 22:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loley24/pseuds/loley24
Summary: A short story of Deria Martell, the granddaugther of Meria Martell, the Princess of Dorne who refused to bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen, goes to Kings Landing to negotiate peace; and she will do it without bending the knee.





	1. The truth

**Author's Note:**

> The character of Ormund Yronwood was invented by me, he is not part of the world of ice and fire or Game of Thrones. I hope you like it. I took some liberties and forgive me if I made mistakes, english is not my language.

Deria couldn’t sleep. There was still plenty of time until sunrise and she wasn’t able to get any sleep all night; part of it was thanks to the pregnancy, she was almost three months long, and that made her resent the heat of the dornish weather, like she hadn’t live there her whole life; the Maester said that it was normal considering her state. But all of that was secondary, in reality, the true reason why she couldn’t sleep was the worry. The rebellion against the Targaryens was almost ten years long, and even though they were still strong and fighting ferociously she feared that her grandmother’s death, Princess Meria, would affect the moral of her people.

She used to believe, or rather hoped, that her grandmother would be eternal, that it wouldn’t matter that she was old and blind, she would never die; her might was made of something stronger than steel, and she truly believed that she would live to win this war. Grandmother Meria had died a couple of months ago and her father, Prince Nymor, was a good leader and guided the Dornish army and people as best as he could, but he was old and he was starting to decay; faster than what Deria expected, faster than her grandmother. She had been raised to rule Dorne one day, and she didn’t want to inherit a country fighting a war. Fed up of not being able to sleep she decided that the best that she could do was to leave the tent that she shared with Ormund Yronwood to go for a walk in the hopes that it would ease her mind.

Unlike most of the royal Houses of Westeros, the Martells and the Lords of Dorne decided that the best tactic to defend themselves against the invaders was to flee their castles and households and attack once the enemy felt safe; some foreigners would consider it a cowardly act, but they knew it was the smartest thing to do, especially with those dragons. That’s why they were hiding in the dessert, they had been in hiding for almost ten years, she hadn’t set a foot at the Old Palace since, or on Sunspear, the capital of Dorne. Of all the castles in Dorne, Sunspear was said to be the most intact but Deria feared that if she ever had the chance to see her home again she would found it different somehow, unrecognizable. Nevertheless she wanted to see it again, she missed it.

Like any other environment, the desert was an unforgiving and treacherous place for those who had never wander in it; there were no trees to leave marks to not lose the way, water was scarce if you didn’t know where to find it, and the most terrifying thing was that the desert could play with your mind, making you see things that were not there. The Dornish knew that the army of the Three Headed Dragon would ignore all of this, out of inexperience or arrogance, so they would not consider the desert a real threat or a place where they could find them, and even if they did they wouldn’t know where to start. The desert was a dangerous place indeed, it could also be a place of extreme beauty. At night it looked like it belonged to a fairy tale: the stars and the moon shined so bright that they almost reflected over the sand and the mountains seemed blue under the sky; and for Deria it smelled sweet like jasmine and sandalwood. The camp was quiet, almost everybody were sleeping. “They have fought greatly, they still do, but how much longer can we still go like this? Without a home and so much uncertainty” thought Deria.

_“You can’t sleep?”_ Asked a voice. Without noticing it she had reached her father’s tent, Prince Nymor was sitting on a stool outside of it. There was no torch light to illuminate him only the moon’s shine, and it was enough to see Nymor’s curved posture and the lines on his face. It made her feel sad how wan her father looked, he was seventy and five years old, twenty years younger than her grandmother when she died, yet he looked older. The consequences of war where harsher on him than on Grandmother Meria, she hated the feeling that her days with her father were numbered.

_“No father, it seems that you can’t either”._

_“The baby doesn’t let you sleep?”_ Nymor got up from the stool with the help of a cane, Deria went to help him but he stopped her. He got in to the tent and invited her to do the same.

_“Take a seat, love”._ She took a seat on one of the chairs that were in front of a small table while Nymor lighted a candle and served two cups of cool blood orange water, he gave one cup to Deria and took a sit.

_“When your mother was pregnant with you she also had trouble to sleep; you barely moved during the day but in the night you didn’t stop moving, your poor mother had to sleep when the sun was out”_ Said Nymor with nostalgia.

She put a hand on her womb unconsciously. Deria never knew her mother, she had died giving birth to her. The Maesters had told her that her pregnancy was developing perfectly, that she didn’t need to worry; she feared all the same.

_“It’s too early for the baby to move father. What about you, what keeps you awake?”_ Deria inquired Nymor to stop her mind to travel to places she didn’t want to go. She took a sip of her water.

Nymor sunk a little further on his chair. _“I cannot stop thinking about your grandmother. Of how I hoped that she would never leave us, I think we all did. We all believed that she was indestructible. She was indeed the incarnation of our words: Unbent, unbowed and unbroken. But she was human after all. I also think of your mother, how much I have needed her this ten years of war”._

Tanselle Sand that was her mother’s name. Bastard daughter of the Lord of Sandstone, Mors Qorgyle, the Black Scorpion. At the Old Palace there was a portrait of Tanselle, the only image of her; when they fled Nymor tried to take the portrait without success. Deria also yearned to see her again, it was getting harder and harder to remember the face of the portrait.

_“I can’t take this war any longer Deria and I dread that Dorne will not either”._

Ever since the death of Queen Rheanys at Hellholt things had gotten more difficult for them; over the last three years Aegon and Visenya had burned almost every corner of Dorne that they could find, The wroth of the Dragon, that is how they called it; they also put a price on the heads of the royal family and some Marcher lords had sent letters that claimed that they had paid the Targaryens to avoid their wrath were delivered to the Dornish houses. Some dornish lords had been assassinated thanks to the reward, so far no member of the royal family had been attacked and they still hold the loyalty of their people. The Targaryens couldn’t say the same, when they put a price to their heads the Martells responded by doing exactly the same, and so far only the Targaryens had been attacked, not them, but Deria knew that the tied could easily change against them.

_“You want to bend the knee father?”_ Deria had started to suspect that Nymor wanted to surrender; at meetings with the lords and the Army Commanders he was withdrawn, he paid attention but he rarely participated, to the dismay of everybody else. Ormund had urged her to encourage Nymor to show more interest.

_“Bend the knee? Never, like your grandmother said to Rhaenys Targaryen: Dorne will only have a Prince or Princess, never a King”._

She had to admit that part of her wanted him to surrender, truthfully sometimes she didn’t see the point of still fighting.

_“What do you want to do then?”_

_“Establish peace between our kingdoms but maintaining our sovereignty”._ Nymor said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, although his tone was severe and conclusive.

_“Father, Aegon and Visenya Targaryen will never accept that, especially after the death of Queen Rhaenys. We killed her, at least that’s how they see it”._ On some measure she understood the Targaryens, if Ormund or anyone else she loved died, regardless that it was at the hand of the Targaryens or in battle she would want retribution; but this was war, and war didn’t spare anybody. So the thought of revenge for the death of a love one at the battlefield could be a senseless demand.

_“Deria, there is something I have to tell you. Is about Queen Rhaenys”._

She kept silence waiting for her father to continue.

_“Rhaenys Targaryen didn’t die at the battle of Hellholt”._

_“But that is impossible”._ Said Deria in disbelief. It truly was; Queen Rhaenys couldn’t have survived the fall, it was too high, the impact alone was enough to explode her body. Some people said that her dragon, Meraxes, had fallen on top of her; Ormund was there, he saw her fall. But he had never seen her body, or anybody else for that matter.

_“As impossible as it sounds she survived the fall, she got gravely wounded. When the battle was over Harmen Huller found her not far away from her dragon; she could barely breathe and most of her bones were shattered. He offered to kill her but your grandmother didn’t let him, she was so hurt that the Maesters had to attend her right where she was so they wouldn’t hurt her further when they moved her. She was kept hidden with a sheet to make her pass as another dead body. Your grandmother ordered the Ullers to hide her and warned them about the consequences of disobeying her if they harmed her or revealed her survival. You know how savage the Ullers can be”._ Nymor was disclosing all this to Deria without emotion in his voice, which only aggravated her.

_“You are telling me that Grandmother Meria deliberately made the Targaryens believe that their sister was dead. Why?! We could have used her to negotiate peace... this rebellion would be over already”._ Deria was furious, she didn’t understand why her grandmother didn’t think of this before.

_“At first the scene was so somber that we believed that she wouldn’t live for too long, then a week passed so I told your grandmother the exact same thing, that she was an opportunity to make them surrender and end this war once and for all but your grandmother refused, she said it was not the right time. That we had to use her as our last resource, when the war was on our necks. If that happened then we would use her to manipulate Aegon, and if he doesn’t yield then we will end her suffering”._ Nymor kept silence for a moment, contemplating. “ _I think that for my mother, denying mercy to Rhaenys and make her siblings believe that she was dead was her personal revenge”._

That meant that her grandmother put her personal interest before the wellbeing of her people.

_“And know is the right time?”_ Asked Deria sarcastically, she didn’t like being disrespectful to her father but she couldn’t help it.

_“We can still give a fight, but I am done with this war”._

Deria just kept quiet, after a moment she said:

_“Where is she?”_

_“For a while we kept her in a tower near the Red Mountains, then we relocated her to Sunspear, she is in a house at the care of various Maesters”._

_“What is her state?”_

_“She cannot walk or move her arms. She has difficulties to breath and talk. Her mind, however is active; I went to see her once and she beg me to kill her. I had no desire to go back after that”._

Deria remembered everything that Ormund told her about the Battle of Hellholt, the greatest victory for the Dornish people since this war started. Thanks to the shot of a scorpion that hit Meraxes in the eye, she fell from the sky taking Queen Rhaenys with her. Ormund said that everybody could see her descending and Meraxes falling over her, how she writhed in the air trying to stop her imminent impact and the sound the dragon’s body made when it landed was like no sound he ever heard before. Ormund believed that the Queen and Meraxes death was significant in more than one way; it proved that the dragons weren’t invincible and that the Targaryens and their armies without them weren’t as strong as they thought they were, because once the dragon was defeated it was easy to slay them.

_“Who knows about this?”_ Deria thought that by now that didn’t matter anymore, she asked anyway.

_“The Ullers and me. And your grandmother of course”._

_“So, what is the plan?”_

_“I will write a letter to King Aegon and I will send it with an emissary; I will explain the situation and our terms. I will give him two options: He can come to Dorne, alone and without his dragon, we will send a ship for him. So he can end himself her life or take her back home, not before signing a peace accord; or he can refuse and I will assure him that his sister-wife will have a slow painful death”._

_“You would really do that father? Would you be so ruthless to a woman who cannot even move?”_

_“Of course not Deria, if Aegon refuse I will end her suffering not prolong it and it would be a quick and painless death; she is our enemy but she has agonized enough. Although Aegon doesn’t need to know that”._ Nymor said this with a smile, she hadn’t seen her father smile in a long time.

_“That might only make him angrier with us”._

_“Perhaps, but we already tasted his fury and we endured, and we have to be firm”._

_“Do you think he will take the bait?”_

_“I believe so, is no secret that she was his favorite sister-wife; you know what the rumor said: For every night that Aegon spent with Visenya he spent ten with Rhaenys; honestly I cannot say I blame him”._ Nymor hoped that he could make her laugh with that comment but Deria remained silent.

_“It is a gamble Deria, I acknowledge that but it is worth to try it”._

Deria was having trouble to believe that it would be so simple, still Nymor was right, it was worth to try it, what else could they lose? She didn’t like the idea of that poor woman in pain, no matter her being part of the enemy. And like her father, she wanted to be done with this war, she wanted to go back home and a peaceful country where her child could live.

_“Send me father”._

Nymor felt like he had been stung by a scorpion. _“No Deria, you are pregnant and you are the heir to the throne, it is too dangerous”._

_“Father, if I am going to rule this country I want to do it knowing that I did everything in my power to assure its safety and that somehow I contributed in the termination of this war; you have to admit that so far my contribution has been limited. Besides if I go the message will have more strength, I am a member of the royal family”._

Nymor didn’t underestimate the fury of the remaining Targaryen siblings, surely they would considered it a fair pay: The life of his daughter for the life of their sister.

_“Deria, you and the child you are expecting are the future of Dorne, of House Martell, and all I have left, do not ask me to risk that”_  . Said Nymor pleadingly.

She took Nymor’s hands and looked him straight in the eye. His words moved her and she knew he was speaking from the heart.

_“I won’t lie to you father. I consider that the decision that grandmother made about Rhaenys Targaryen was a wrong and proud one, and you made a mistake as well by not stopping her, because Dorne suffered as a result. I know you are scared, I am as well, but we have to make this right and if somebody else do this it wouldn’t be just”._

Nymor wanted to protest, it would have been useless, Deria was not easy to persuade, and he couldn’t deny it, she was right.

_“Ormund will never allow it”._

_“He can come with me”._

_“And he will, I will command it, even though I know I won’t need to; he loves you too much to let you do this by yourself”._ She smiled when she heard that.

_“When do you want me to leave?”_

_“As soon as I have everything ready, I will let you know; for now go back to your tent before I regret it”._

She kissed Nymor and said while she gave him a hug. _“Thank you for trusting me father”._

_..._

 

_“Deria? Are you here?”_ No answer came. _“Seven hells”._

Ormund Yronwood didn’t like to be paranoid. Ever since the Targaryens had put a price on each of the Martells lives, he couldn’t feel otherwise; he didn’t like to leave Deria’s side and when he had no choice he left her with guards protecting her. It only got worse when they found out she was with child. This were difficult times for bringing a child to the world, the only ones that were aware of the pregnancy were Maester Uron and Prince Nymor, Ormund wanted to keep it a secret for now, he feared that the price would only rise if it was known that the heir to the throne of Dorne was expecting. He put on his boots and was looking for his shirt when Deria came in to the tent.

_“Where were you? I was about to go out to look for you”._

_“I went for a walk, I couldn’t sleep”._

Exasperated he ran a hand through his hair. _“You shouldn’t go out on your own during night time Deria, you know that”._

Deria knew that Ormund’s worries weren’t misplaced. That didn’t make it easier for her patience; they had had arguments about his overprotectiveness, in other circumstances she would have quarreled with him but she had no energy for it.

_“I am sorry my love, I didn’t want to worry you”._

Ormund took a breath, he didn’t want to argue either.

_“Do you feel better at least?”_

_“Yes”._ Answered Deria with an unconvincing smile. Ormund noticed it.

_“What is going on? You seem tense”._

She looked at him and for a moment she got distracted. Ormund descended from the First Men, that was why he was faired skinned, with blond hair and blue eyes, while she was brown skinned and her hair and eyes were pitch black. She wondered how their baby would look like.

_“My father and I had a conversation Ormund”._

_“About what?”_

_“The war, he wants to negotiate peace”._

_“He wants to surrender?”_

_“No, he wants to establish peace between both kingdoms, as sovereign kingdoms”._

Ormund shook his head. _“Deria that will never happen, the only way the Targaryens will accept peace is if your father bends the knee to King Aegon”._

_“True, but this time we may have an advantage”._

_“What do you mean?”_

She though that now was as good as any moment to tell him.

_“Ormund there is something you need to know”._


	2. Lord Yronwood

When the rebellion against the Targaryens started Lord Berick Yronwood, Warden of the Stone Way, Lord of House Yronwood, told his son Ormund something that he couldn’t understand at the moment, _“War takes only and what gives in return is pain and loss son. Know this before you make part of it”._ He was just ten and six years old when his father told him this and he thought that his father was mistaken. People dies in war, he could die himself; but if he survived, he could gain glory and fame among his peers, even if he died doing something great, heroic, he would be remembered as well. Back then, Ormund dreamed of being a famous knight, one that would have fought in epic battles and crushed powerful enemies; and who was more powerful than Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen?

Then he went to battle for the first time, and he understood how accurate his father’s words were. He lost something that day, his older brother, Alaric, who was stabbed right in front of him; the Targaryen soldier who did it was Ormund’s first kill. After that he kept loosing and loosing; family, friends, his home, his youth. Once he got to know all the horrors that accompanied war, fame and glory were nothing to him. For fame and glory would never bring him back what he had lost, and it would never make it better; so he had a new purpose: to become a vehement soldier, with the purpose of securing the protection of his people and to defend his country.

To say that the relationship between the Martells and the Yronwoods was strained it would be an understatement; some of the members of House Yronwood never forgot how the Martells with the help of Nymeria of the Rhoyne had stripped them of their lands and their kingdom; the Martells feared that the Yronwoods were going to join the Targaryens in their conquest as revenge, but as time passed they remained loyal, they never understood why. Although his father hadn’t raised him to hate the Martells he used to be wary of them; a wariness that was replaced with respect when he witnessed how aggressively they fought, how they toyed with the Targaryens. Ormund and Princess Deria met when he was ten and eight years of age and she was ten and six; at first they were formal with each other, eventually they became friends and allies. It took him five years to realize that he was in love with her. To be more precise, the day he became aware of his feelings was the day of the Battle of Hellholt.

At the battle Ormund was part of the many soldiers that were fighting around the gates of the castle instead of in it. They knew from the beginning that the castle was a lost cause; they could not offer any protection against dragon fire, which was powerful enough to melt rock, that’s why that instead of placing archers at the top of it they placed scorpions in the surroundings. Ormund did his best to never have out of sight the dragon Meraxes while he was fighting and it proved to be harder than what he expected. Meraxes was fast and agile in spite of her size. It was hard to tell who was winning; whenever he saw a Targaryen soldier falling he saw a Dornish one as well. Ormund always went to battle knowing that he might not return, but that was the first time he actually felt that death was coming to claim him. _Fuck it, if this is where I perish, so be it_. After he finished that thought, that was when it happened. That was when Meraxes roar of agony stilled everything and everyone ceased to fight to see the dragon and the Queen going down.

The sight he was beholding looked surreal to him, in all his dreams he never pictured this outcome. It all became real when the dragon hit the ground casting a fog of dust that covered his view for what felt hours and the first cry of celebration was shouted. Unlike the rest of the soldiers Ormund didn’t celebrate, he didn’t feel joy or relief. He felt rage; a rage he never felt before, not even when his brother was killed. When he felt the weight of the sword that he was holding again he turned to the Targaryen soldier he was battling, who was still frozen with shock, and pierced him right on the gut. Every time he saw a man wearing the Targaryen sigil he finished him without any compassion, he was so consumed by his rage that he didn’t notice that he was clashing against a soldier that had already surrender and was only protecting himself against the blows that Ormund was giving him.

_“Ormund! Stop!”_ someone screamed, _“Ormund! It is over!”_ For him, it wasn’t over until every Targaryen was overthrown. The voice kept begging him to lower his sword and he did when he recognized the voice of Aresia Dayne. He looked at the soldier who was on his knees with his hands up and then at Aresia who was with Timeon Toland; both of them were disheveled, scratched and covered in blood, alive. They left the terrified soldier there; they had had enough of death for the day.

  
Ormund never believed that he would stand so close to a dragon, not even a dead one. Meraxes was indeed a magnificent beast: her silver scales that turned litmus when they caught the sun light, a snout so large that she could sallow more than just one horse at once, one of her wings was extended and it was long enough to cover the entire castle, or what was left of it, and it was translucent. It was said that her eyes were golden; unbelievably, one single arrow in the eye was enough to kill her.

_“Where is Queen Rhaenys?”_ said Timeon.

_“She must be under Meraxes”._ Aresia’s tone was flat, almost indifferent, but Ormund saw she had a smirk on her lips, like she was relishing in the fact that Queen Rhaenys was squashed by her own dragon.

When they regained their composure they helped collecting the bodies of their fallen brothers in arms, incarcerate the remaining Targaryens soldiers, attended the wounded and move all the debris of the castle.

_“What will we do with the dragon?”_ asked Ormund to Commander Qorgyle.

_“We will leave it here for the sand dogs to devourer it. Tomorrow we will see what they left”._

When he finally went back to the camp in the dessert he wanted nothing more than to go to his tent, thankfully Lord Commander Blackmont dismissed him and he didn’t have to accompany him to give the report of the events to Princess Meria and the other royals. He was heading to his tent when Deria came out of her grandmother’s tent and when she saw him she smiled at him like she never had before, he realized that she was relieved to see him alive, and for some reason that smile was his undoing; it was too much for him, so he kept walking leaving a concerned Deria behind.

When he got to his tent, he intended to clean himself but he just sat on his cot. He didn’t know how long he sat there when somebody called his name.

_“Ormund, may I come in?”_ It was Princess Deria.

Feeling ashamed for his earlier behavior he called her in, even though he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face anybody.

She didn’t come in right away and when she did she looked nervous. She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out and she was fidgeting.

_“Is something wrong, Princess?”_ No matter that Deria had asked him countless times to call her by her name, he kept calling her Princess.

_“No, there is nothing wrong… I wanted to see if you needed anything”._

_“Thank you your majesty. I don’t need anything right now”._

Deria didn’t know if that was supposed to be a dismissal and perhaps the most sensible thing would have been to leave.

_“Are you truly alright Ormund?”_

_“I am not harmed Princess, Maester Uron already checked my wounds, they are superficial”._

_“I didn’t mean that. What I meant to say is… how are you feeling? I don’t want to intrude; is just that you look so sad”._

Sad, he was certain he looked tired; in all honesty, Ormund couldn’t put a name to what he was feeling. He remembered the resignation he felt during the battle, the rage that possessed him after the death of Meraxes and the numbness that took over him when everything was over. And now; he remembered Queen Rhaenys, how little she seemed when she was falling and somehow he managed to see her struggling in the air, her arms and legs twisting, the deafening roars of Meraxes, the sound her corpse did when she at last touched the ground, the arrow in her eye, the soldier who had already surrendered looking at him as if he was a monster; some older memories too, leaving the castle that was his family’s home, his foolish dreams of being a knight, his brother dead in his arms. Indeed, he was sad, he just hadn’t noticed it.

He didn’t want Deria to see him cry so he put his head on his hands and closed his eyes hoping to suppress the tears.

Deria had never seen him so devastated, she couldn’t stand it; she sat next to him and embraced him, and Ormund gave in, he couldn’t call to mind when was the last time somebody had hugged him. He forgot his shame and cried; Deria said nothing, she just hold him in her arms. When he recovered she asked him: _“Do you wish to be alone?”_

No, he didn’t want to, and he wanted to be with her. Only her, because Deria never judged him, she listened to him, she never expected him to be strong all the time and she always found the way to lift his spirit.

_“No, please Deria stay. Do not leave me alone tonight, please”._ Whether it was the way he said it or that he had said her name; it made her heart ache. So she stayed and she listen all about the battle, all about the grief he carried but never expressed, all about his tiredness and all about his fears.

_“For tonight is over Ormund, you have been so brave. Rest, you have earned it. I am not saying that tomorrow all that consumes you will fade away, but it will be a new day, and I will be there for you. You can lean on me”._

That night, Ormund fell asleep with Deria by his side.

... 

_“Ormund say something”._

He listened to every word, every single detail, and just like Deria he couldn’t believe it. Queen Rhaenys Targaryen survived the fall; Meraxes didn’t fell on top of her like he had thought. How was it possible only the Gods knew. He believed Deria was not aware of this. On the contrary of her fellow Martell relatives, Deria was more transparent and less cunning, a trait that it was hoped she would get with time.

_“Are you angry? Is that why you don’t speak?”_

_“Angry?”_

_“Yes, at my grandmother, at my father… at me”._

_“Why would I be angry at you?”_

_“Because they lied, they withhold very important information, my grandmother and my father they could have ended this war… and I… I am part of them. And I know how your family feels about us and…”._

_“Don’t”._ He was not going to let her end that sentence. This was not her fault.

_“You did not do this. This was your grandmother, your father and also the Ullers. I am certain that if you had known about this you would have fight against everybody to do the right thing; I do not understand why your grandmother did what she did, and I agree with you: it was not the right way. And if you think that I would blame you for something that was not your responsibility, then that means that you don’t know me at all”._

Deria put her forehead against his shoulder. He was so different to any man she had ever met; so caring, so patient and so understanding. She remembered that she had not told him everything, and she knew that he would not be so comprehensive about this.

He was smiling when she raised her head which only made it harder.

_“There is something else”._ He said. It was not a question.

_“Yes. The emissary my father is going to send, it is me.”_

He stood up like a bolt making the bed rattle. She tried to hold his hand but he withdrew it.

_“No. I can be very tolerant Deria, but not with this. You really think the Targaryens won’t make you a prisoner?! Won’t use you as an example? What is your father thinking?!”_

Deria stood up and braced herself for the argument that was about to begin.

_“It was not his idea, it was mine”._

Ormund laughed bitterly.

_“Of course, you are mad enough to do something so foolish”._

Deria grabbed him by the shoulders and as calmly as she could she explained her reasons:

_“My love, like I said to my father, if I am going to be a ruler of this country I need to be brave, to show some backbone. I am the one who must go”._

He wanted to get her hands off of him, he was shacking.

_“Why you? Why not someone else? Why not Harmen Uller? He was an accomplice in all of this”._

_“Because I am Princess Deria Nymeros Martell of Dorne, the future ruler; you know as well as I do that this is my duty”._ Said Deria with vehemence. There were flames in her voice, in her eyes; they were so intent that Ormund had to look aside. He removed her hands, gently.

_“This is not your mess to clean Deria. This is your father’s; let him have the consequences of his actions”._

_“That would not be fair”._ As angry as she was with her family, she still wanted to protect her father.

_“Nothing about this war is fair!”_

He was getting desperate, so he used his last card:

_“And what about our child, have you thought of that?”_

Her flames wavered but she knew exactly what he was doing.

_“Do not do that, it is beneath you”._

_“What? Reminding you that it will not only be you the one who is in danger?” He got closer to her. “I know that you want to prove yourself but you don’t have to. This will not define you as a fit ruler”._

He was smart, he knew how unfit she felt sometimes, how guilty she felt, since she was convinced that she had not done enough to end this war.

_“It is my turn Ormund. It is my turn to put something at stake. Of course I worry about our child, and I also worry about its home, its future, its legacy. This could finally end everything and I am going to do it, if you won’t support my decision then fine, you can stay here. You won’t stop me”._

_“I need to be alone”._ Ormund left the tent not caring that he was not wearing a shirt.

He went to an oasis that was not far from the camp, not even Deria knew about this place; it was his sanctuary, where he went when he needed to collect his thoughts. One of the reasons why Ormund loved the oasis so much was that he got the chance to see the desert fauna up close. He would just sit and watched the animals drink some water or relax; it could be dangerous so he always carried a knife, so far he had not needed it. At first when the animals noticed him they were suspicious, they approached carefully and when they realized that he was not a threat they treated him like he was another one of them. Tonight, he saw a fox and her cups, some of them were cuddling her, and the others were playing with each other while their mother was keeping an eye on them.

He was sure he wasn’t exaggerating. It was just that when she told him what she was planning to do, he lost every ounce of equanimity he had. This was the woman he loved, the mother of his future child, one of the things that he treasured the most. As many people in Dorne, Ormund had lost a lot thanks to the war; but he had won something: Deria, and now she was about to deliver herself to the people that hated her the most. He didn’t feel proud of all the things he said to her, he knew that it was a low blow to use her insecurities against her. She had a point, he knew that; and it was hard to acknowledge it. Regardless of what he believed, he was confident that she would leave without him and without a word, which would be worst for him and he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

When Deria woke up she found Ormund next to her already awake.

_“If we are going to do this promise me that you won’t take any unnecessary risk, and that you will share everything with me. We will make a plan and we will follow it”._

He said we not you, he was coming.

_“I promise”._

_“I am sorry for my outburst last night”._

_“Don’t be, I understand”._

He brought his lips to hers, and they kissed slowly. Deria was aware that this wasn’t easy for him, which was why this meant so much to her. It didn’t matter that he did not agreed with her, he was supporting her anyway. When they were done kissing he asked:

_“When are we leaving?”_


	3. Kings Landing

On her way to King’s Landing, Deria thought about all the ways this could go wrong. She could be taken prisoner, they could kill her and everybody that joined her, and send her head back to her father, and she could be raped before she was killed. They could kill Ormund in front of her. Those last two were the worst’s scenarios she could think of. She tried to calm by telling herself that, when it comes to the rest of Westeros, nobody besides Dorne knew about their relationship, let alone about their unborn child. But, anything could happen. The Targaryens hated her, her family, all Dorne for that matter; whether Aegon decided to believe or not her father’s word he still could have her burnt by their remaining dragons. Another possible faith she hadn’t thought about.

But it was too late now. She was less than a day from Kings Landing and she could not relent. _Unbent, unbowed, unbroken; they could burn me to ashes but they will not make me bend, break me, or make me bow. I am from Dorne, and it was their mistake to come in the first place._ She thought; the same words that her grandmother had told to Rhaenys Targaryen years ago. Part of her felt convinced enough of those words; the other hoped that it was easy to believe them as it was to say them. If her grandmother were alive, what would she think of her? Deria still had not made peace with her grandmother’s decision, and she knew that there was not time to brood over that; right now, she needed to be like her, to have her strength and courage. _Please grandmother, do not leave me to do this on my own, stay with me. I need you. For I am not as fierce as you were, I realize that now._ She beckoned.

The sun was about to set, she had come to the bow of the ship to watch it. The sun blazing in its entire splendor was part of the sigil of House Martell; the sun was brought by the legendary Nymeria, who was said to be a warrior queen, who after losing her kingdom to the Valyrian Freehold led her people to Westeros, to Dorne, and with Mors I Martell conquered it. Conquered, that is what Aegon and his sisters did. Sometimes, Deria couldn’t help to think that what was happening was a consequence from her family history: Nymeria and Mors conquered Dorne, never wondering if they were the right rulers for it. Not so different from Aegon; who wanted to take their kingdom to make it part of his own. There must be some divine justice working on, but if Deria let herself to dwell too much about it she wouldn’t accomplish what she was supposed to do. It was better to believe that they were avenging her and her people; the valyrians took Nymeria’s home and now they will defend her new one, one she adopted and turned in a great and proud kingdom.

So thanks to Nymeria the Martells had the sun and what was the sun but an enormous star made out of pure fire? Tomorrow, Deria would have to face the Targaryens believing that she was as strong as the blazing fire of the sun.

She went back to her cabin; she needed to get some sleep. Ormund was not there, he must have been with the other Dornish generals and captains discussing all the precautions and protocols they would follow. Sleep didn’t come as easily as she thought it would, but mercifully, anxiety and fear didn’t get a grip on her. When she felt his arms encircling her waist she felt how her body lost some of the tension.

_“Are you all right?”_ Ormund ran a hand along her waist. Deria didn’t want to admit how she felt, not after their last fight, but she wanted to speak with the truth.

_“Am afraid that if I tell you how I really feel you would think of me as a naïve and foolish girl who did not know what she was getting herself into”._ His caress stopped at that comment. Ormund realized how much their last argument had hurt her.

_“It is alright to be afraid”. “_

_I_ _feel fear, I will say that; for myself, for you, our country, my father and our people. Tomorrow however, I will not show that. I will be like the sun: proud, strong and unapologetic_ ”.

_“Like the sun?”_ Ormund asked bemused _. “What are you talking about?”_

“ _The Targaryens have their dragons, they_ _breathe fire. And the Martells have the sun, a shining star made of it. I tell myself that tomorrow fire and fire will meet each other, and that we are equally strong, but unlike their fire, mine is used to bring life and not to destroy, like theirs do”._

Ormund kissed her shoulder and said.

_“I did not know that you were this eloquent”_. He teased.

_“I am not, I know it sounds silly. It’s just a thought that brings me comfort and courage”._

He whispered into her ear. _“You are brave Deria, you have always been”._

Deria turned to face him, to make sure he was being serious and was not just trying to spare her. There was seriousness in those beautiful blue eyes, no trace of mockery or condescendence. In one second, she straddled him and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked surprised and excited at the same time. He was moving to a sitting position but decided against it, and settled himself on the mattress; waiting to see what she would do next. She slid her hands under his shirt, feeling the scars that covered his skin, the hardness of his chest and abdomen, he thought the she was going to coax him out of his shirt, but instead she remove her nightgown. Ormund’s hand started to roam over her body without thinking about it. There was something about being stark naked while he still was dressed that aroused her, specially she loved the dumbstruck expression he had when she did it, like if it was the first time he saw her naked. If everything went to hell tomorrow, then maybe this was their last night together, and she would make it count.

...

When they finally arrived, they set up a small camp at the shore of Blackwater bay; they had no intentions on staying at Aegonfront. The farther from them the better, they were in their territory now. Deria and her companions wasted no time. As soon as the camp was settled they went straight to meet Aegon and Visenya.

The city seemed to Deria a complete mess. The streets had an odor of putrefaction, urine, food and some other things that were making Deria’s stomach queasy. Very loud; voices and shouts, horses and other animals, clashing of metal, and it was cramped, the citizens that were gathering around them to watch them march did it pressed to the walls of buildings; some of them look curious, some others looked at her chariot with suspicion. She believed that most of them must be wondering what was inside the wagon that was following her.

Aegonfort was not what she expected to be; it was made of wood and brick, not a castle but a big colony surrounded by walls. It was not pretty at all. She was convinced that Aegon resided in a castle made of stone like the one in Dragonstone. Before she entered to the hall where Aegon and his court were, she closed her eyes for the slightest moment, took a deep breath, and continued to move. Ormund squeezed her hand and rapidly let go, as if to say _I am here._

The room was filled with court members; they were murmuring and looking inquisitively. Someone spat at her passing and said _“Dornish whore”,_ some other said _“Dornish filth”_ ; she didn’t look at them, wasn’t even hearing. She was to drawn to what was on display in front of her. She had heard descriptions of the Iron Throne, and she always considered them exaggerated; it was known that Aegon collected the swords of his fallen enemies and that he built his throne with them. But what she was looking at was not a throne. It was a gigantic abomination, a monstrosity; jagged edges of spikes and swords in no particular order; it had at least twenty steps to get to the top, and sitting on it was Aegon Targaryen himself. Deria had never met any of the Targaryens personally, but she already knew how they looked like: they had violet eyes, silver-gold blonde hair, and fair skin; all of them were impossibly beautiful. Rhaenys had been gracious, the flirt, the one who loved the common folk and they loved her back. Visenya was the implacable warrior, fiercer than her brother, cold, stern, supposedly a witch, and Aegon; he was harder to read than his sisters, kind with his allies but unforgiving with those who defied him, quiet, withdrawn, smart.

Aegon had deliberately made the throne that way because a King should never sit easily on his throne. How magnanimous of him, though Deria with contempt. To her, the throne was not a display of awareness to the hardships that came with ruling; it was one of arrogance and superiority. It was a statement: His kingdom is forged upon destroyed kingdoms; destroyed families, all of them raised their blades, their spikes and swords against him, and now they make the throne were he beholds what he created. This man was a hypocrite. The fury gave her the courage she needed and lessened the heaviness of the letter in her pocket. She would not fear people like him any longer.

When she reached the throne she spotted Visenya and Orys Baratheon beside her. _If it was possible, they would kill me with their minds,_ the look they gave her tell her that much. She noticed his missing sword hand; Wyl of Wyl cut his hand before freeing him so he would never use it against Dorne, after that he resigned as Hand of the King and returned to the Stormlands. If he was here that meant that this was considered a very important issue, most likely he wanted to seek revenge. Nobody despised Dorne as much as he did.

Visenya was sitting on a chair, she didn’t have a throne, Deria suspected that she must not be very happy about it; she wouldn’t if she was her.

A loud thud came from behind her. Everybody looked wary of the bulk behind her.

_“You stand before Aegon I Targaryen, King of All Westeros, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Shield of his people, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of Dragonstone and the First of his Name”_. Said a squire.

_“I am Princess Deria Nymeros Martell, Granddaughter of Princess Meria Martell, Lady of Sunspear, Daughter of Prince Nymor Martell, Lord of Sunspear and future Princess of Dorne”_ She said her titles herself, with a voice that sounded stronger that the one of the squire.

Visenya rolled her eyes and shifted on her chair. Aegon only stared at her, revealing nothing.

_“What is the purpose of your visit, my lady?”_ She didn’t know if Aegon meant to slight her by calling her lady, she understood that he didn’t see her as an equal.

_“I have come to represent my father and my country, to put an end to the war and establish peace between our kingdoms”._

_“ We had made our terms very clear. Bend the knee, there is no other way”._ Said Visenya.

_“What did you bring with you my lady?”_ asked Aegon, composed.

Deria gave a nod to the guard beside the wagon and he pulled the sheet. Murmurs and gasps filled the room when Meraxes skull was revealed. Visenya paled and Aegon clutched the arms of the throne, his face showing some emotion at last; pain and agony.

_“My father sends the skull of the dragon Meraxes as a show of good will”._ Visenya stood and took a few steps towards her, Deria’s guards touched the hill of their swords, Ormund stood between them but Deria moved him out of her way, she wanted to face her.

_“A show of good will?”_ Rage rang in her voice.

_“The skull of my sister’s dragon, the reminder of her demise... on your hands!”._

_“Visenya”._  Said Aegon, she ignored him.

_“Your father has a very twisted sense of humor, Princess”._ She practically spat the last word.

_“Visenya”._ Repeated Aegon, this time more aggressively.

_“I must agree with the Queen your Grace; this is an offense to you and your sister. It is a mockery”._ Orys Baratheon interceded for Visenya.

_“You should send her to the meanest of brothels to service any man who would have her, that would teach her father some respect”_. Said a member of the court she would later know as Lord Oakheart.

Ormund stepped closer to Deria and the Lord seemed to shrink. Deria could only imagine the kind of look that Ormund must had given him.

_“I assure you, we did not mean any harm. We only thought that you would like to have this with you. Or would you prefer it to be laying on the sands of Hellholt? To keep it as a trophy, that would be a mockery”._

_“We? I thought it was your father’s idea”_. Said Orys Baratheon.

_“If I speak for my father, then I speak for House Martell”._ Orys only looked at her, and his gaze was so intense that it was hard for Deria not to look away.

_“What about the remains of my sister?”_ Deria was surprised to see tears in Visenya's eyes. It was rumored that the Targaryen sisters didn’t get along very well and that they were always competing for their brother’s attention. _Despite what they say about them, she loved Rhaenys, I see that._

_“Unfortunately your Grace, I do not know what happened to your sister’s body”._  Deria said the lie very convincingly.

_“The cunt you had as a grandmother must have killed her herself! Or let the Ullers do torture her to death!”_ Visenya was losing her control and she didn’t care.

Deria didn’t respond to the offense made to her grandmother’s memory.

_“That’s enough Visenya, sit down!”_ Aegon stood from the throne. Visenya looked at him and he looked back, both of them refusing to stand down; the members of the Court must have witnessed this kind of confrontations between them regularly, they were silent as the dead. Finally, she went back to her chair.

_“I apologize for my sister’s behavior”._ Visenya stared at him with indignation but stayed quiet. He sat down and took a breath. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, Deria already knew his answer. He was looking at the skull when he spoke.

_“I appreciate the gesture, my Lady, but like my sister said there will be no peace without surrender, and…”_

He didn’t finish what he was going to say because he saw Deria walked to the dais, Ormund tried to stop her but she let go off his grasp, Aegon’s guards unsheathed their swords and stood in front of the throne; Visenya remained where she was. Deria didn’t pay attention to anybody else. She ignored the confused expressions of her own guards, the voices of the members of the court; she came with a mission, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she accomplished it. When she arrived to the throne she looked to Aegon, he ordered his guards to let her trough. She climbed the steps until she was facing him. Nobody could denied his beauty, the masculinity that emanated from him, if this was happening a few years ago she would have felt in awe and at the same time intimidated, but she knew better know, he was just a man.

_“I can see that you have made your mind, your Grace, and I know the answer”._ She took the letter that Nymor had written, _“And I assure you, you want to read this before you say it out loud”._

Aegon hesitated before taking the letter. When he began to read Deria retreated and returned to her post, Ormund was livid she knew, that was not part of their plan and they had agreed no more surprises; truthfully she just followed her instinct and it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. She watched Aegon read the letter, rage and sorrow clouting his face, his knuckles turning white when he crumbled the letter. Without warning he came down the throne, for a moment Deria feared that he was going to choke her but when he passed her, he tossed the letter to the closest fire and said:

_“If anything happens to Princess Deria while I am gone I will have all of you to the dragons!”_

_“Aegon! Where are you going?!”_ shouted Visenya _, “Aegon, get back here!”_

Deria was fast.

_“Time to leave”._ She grabbed Ormund’s hand and went right to the door, her company following, nobody stopped them; Visenya, Orys and the rest of the Court were too stunned to do anything.

...

_“One of these days Deria, you will be the death of me”._

They were back in the chariot, heading to their camp, this time Ormund was with her instead of riding alongside it.

_“I am sorry, it was an impulse”._ Ormund was sitting lazily, he looked tired but relieved. He just smiled at her.

_“Well, that went better than what we expected, didn’t it?”_

_“It seems so, we didn’t die”_ Said Deria.

_“I thought that Aegon was going to kill you”._

“So did I”.

_“You think that Visenya and Orys will come after us?”_ asked Ormund.

_“I do not think so. They want me dead but I do not think they will be bold enough to challenge Aegon”._

_“You_ _think? Visenya seems to hate him”._

_“She does, but still, not even she will confront him, it is clear who of the two of them holds the power”._

Ormund nodded. _“So, right now Aegon is on his way to Drangonstone, where he will leave his dragon and wait for us so we can take him to Dorne”._ Ormund rubbed his neck.

_“Exactly”._

_“I want to leave before sunset”._ Ormund’s tone implied he wasn’t asking.

_“The crew and the guards need some rest Ormund”._ Deria hoped that they could eat and have some sleep at least.

_“I won’t risk it Deria, we leave before sunset; besides it will be easier now that we won’t drag that skull”._

She knew that was it, and she felt that she owed him after the stun she pulled _. “All right then”._

Deria knew that this wasn’t over until Aegon signed the peace treaty, but the fear that was crushing her chest was lifted. The possibility of peace after all this years, the war was so close to be over, she didn’t want to let herself to truly feel it but it was hard not to. And she was happy, proud, she came with a purpose and she made it; she faced them and lived to tell it. She sat next to Ormund and he put an arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his shoulder.

_“I know it’s too soon but I cannot help to feel that this is over. The war is finally over, we did it”._

_“You are the one who did it, Princess”._ Princess, an endearment and a title. She didn’t notice that Ormund started too wept. _“It’s over, it’s finally over”._


End file.
